Measured By Nights
by roxierocks
Summary: Stanley's time at Camp Green Lake is measured by nights. Every night that he does not, cannot fall asleep. Because at night something truly terrible happens in DTent, something that Stanley could not bear to sleep through, no matter how much he wants to.


Disclaimer: I don't own Holes, nor do I even claim to.

Warnings: deals with rape and abuse, completely non graphic; mild slash bewteen stanley and zero.

A/ns: This is my first Holes fic, so I would love to know what anyone thinks of it. This is just exploring the idea of Pendanski's hostility towards Zero in the book, and the possible reason behind that hostility.Please, if you find the subject content upsetting, don't read it. I've used scene and dialogue from both the boo and he film, depending on which version I preffered, so its all sort of muddle up. Enjoy!

* * *

The boys in D-Tent don't wake during the night.

If they do, they don't move, don't roll over, don't sigh and shift and shuffle under the blankets.

They lie still and frozen, eyes squeezed shut, trying not to hear the muffled grunts and movements from the bed nearest the door.

If they pretend it isn't happening, then they can pretend it doesn't exist.

And if it doesn't exist, there's no way that they can be next.

* * *

Stanley Yelnats didn't sleep his first night at Camp Green Lake. 

He lay awake, staring at the dark tent ceiling, and thought about his no good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather, and how this was all his fault. Then he thought that maybe it wasn't his fault really, that maybe there wasn't a curse, and Stanley had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The second night he slept like a rock, and every night after for the next two weeks.

On the fourteenth night, X-Ray took him aside as they were all getting ready for bed.

"You sleep pretty heavy, don't ya, Caveman?"

Stanley nodded, unsure as to where this was leading."

"Sure. Why?"

X-Ray seemed to hesitate slightly, and that in itself should have been enough warning for Stanley. In the two weeks he had known him, Stanley had never seen X-Ray hesitate.

"If you wake tonight, just don't make any noise okay?"

Stanley stared at him

"What?"

"I can't explain it," X-Ray snapped. "Just stay quiet, if you know what's good for you."

Stanley went to bed and stayed quiet, even when the tent flap opened and he recognized the figure that was silhouetted against the starlight for a brief moment before moving silently towards the bed by the door.

Stanly lay frozen, listening in horror, and tried not to hear, not to feel and know, because he knew he would come undone.

* * *

"Why last night?" he asked the next morning. 

X-Ray stared hard at him for a few moments, then behind his dirty glasses his eyes lost their edge and became sad and tired.

"He always waits two weeks," he said.

* * *

On the fifteenth night, Stanley tried to will himself to sleep before the tent flap opened, but his mind would not co-operate with his tired body. 

By the twenty fifth night he hoped he wouldn't sleep his whole time at Camp Green Lake. Because if he fell asleep it would mean he had become used to what was happening, and he never wanted to become used to it.

* * *

On the day after the twenty fifth night, he learnt the name Hector Zeroni, and went to bed knowing he had to do something.

* * *

"I want to help you." 

Zero glanced up from his paper, eyes crinkled in confusion.

"You are helping me," he said, gesturing to the words he was practicing.

"Not with that," Stanly said softly, and it took Zero a moment to understand before his face became shut, cold, his eyes flat.

"I'm fine," he said stiffly.

"Don't do that," Stanley said.

"Do what?" Zero asked stubbornly.

"That. That cold thing. Don't do that."

Zero said nothing.

"Don't do that to me," Stanley said.

Zero looked at him then, and behind the hardness in his eyes, Stanley could see the vulnerability and fear he was trying to hide.

"Don't do that to me," he repeated.

Zero closed his eyes, as if he was fighting against something.

The silence in the tent was thick and heavy, and Stanley thought it felt like those moments when you had finished the last drop in your canteen, and you knew the water truck was due any second.

Zero opened his eyes, picked up his pencil and began copying the word 'kite'.

Stanley felt like the water truck had just passed him by.

* * *

It was another seven nights before Stanley dared broach the subject again. 

His time was measured by nights now, the thirtieth, thirty first, thirty second night that he couldn't help Zero.

He didn't sleep a wink. He didn't have to try not to anymore.

* * *

On the thirty third night, he spoke. 

"I won't let him."

They were alone in the tent, but Zero's eyes darted from side to side, as if he was afraid someone was listening.

"Don't," he said.

Stanley stepped toward him. His heart was pounding in his clenched fist.

"I won't let him," he said again, and he clenched the other fist, afraid his heart might trip down his fingertips and run away.

Zero shook his head.

"Hector," Stanley whispered, and Zero jumped like a startled rabbit as the tent flap opened, the moment lost amongst the other boys, their voices loud and intruding, movement disturbing the fragile stillness.

Zero got into bed and lay with his back to Stanley.

Stanley stared at him until his eyes watered, and did not sleep.

* * *

Stanley had taken to complaining loudly about his insomnia whenever the water truck came by, ignoring the warning glances X-Ray shot in his direction. 

X-Ray waited until Zero had finished his hole and headed back to camp, then dropped down into Stanley's, pushing him hard against the dirt wall, a hand at his throat.

"You disturb the dust and we all pay, Caveman. Understand?"

Stanley said nothing, and X-Ray squeezed his throat gently.

"Drop it."

And for the first time, Stanley wasn't afraid. Because he didn't need X-Ray's approval anymore. It wasn't important.

X-Ray climbed back out of his hole, and Stanley watched his retreating back and vowed to help Zero.

* * *

The day after the fortieth night, Zero didn't go back to camp after he'd finished his hole. 

He sat at the edge of Stanley's hole, in silence, and watched as Stanley dug. When the other boys had gone back to camp, he dropped down into the hole and helped Stanley dig the last bit.

He didn't get out though, when they'd finished.

Instead, he stuck his shovel upright in the dirt and slowly sank down against the hole wall to a sitting position.

Stanley sat beside him, and waited a long, long time for him to speak.

"Will you help me?"

Zero's voice cracked on the 'help'.

"You know I will."

Zero looked at him, and Stanley slipped a gentle arm around his shoulders, Zero's cheek pressed against his chest, his zip digging into Zero's delicate skin.

When they finally climbed of the hole it was getting dark, and Stanley knew they must have missed dinner.

It would soon be night.

* * *

The boys in D-Tent don't wake during the night, and Stanley was glad of this as he slipped into Zero's bed with him. 

It was only here, so close, that he could feel Zero's shaking, and pressed a gentle hand against his cheek.

"It's okay," he breathed.

When the tent flap opened Stanley held Zero tightly, and Zero's breath trembled against his neck.

He felt eyes on them, and the seconds stretched into eternity, then the flap closed again and the silent footsteps retreated.

Zero pressed his lips against Stanley's throat, and Stanley didn't let go.

* * *

Stanley thought the other boys must have known what was going on, though none of them said anything. 

He was sure, one night, he awoke to find Magnet's eyes on them, gleaming through the darkness, but Magnet never said anything the next morning, so Stanley kept quiet.

Zero was helping him dig his hole now, and said it was in exchange for his reading lessons, but Stanley knew it was for other reasons.

And he stupidly thought that everything would be okay.

* * *

It was the day after the forty fifth night that it reached breaking point. 

Stanley felt hatred burn in him as Pendanski stepped out of the water truck, and ignored the expected barbs sent his way about Zero being his slave.

The other boys liked to stick their heads so far into the sand that they could no longer be bothered to separate out the reality. They chose to believe the reading lie, because it was easier than acknowledging the true reason Zero was helping Stanley. They didn't want to deal with it.

Zigzag's punches were sharp and well aimed, and his fists felt like dead weights against Stanley's tired muscles and unprotected stomach.

His head swam and he felt dizzy, and he was only vaguely aware of Zero's arms around Zigzag's throat, of Zero trying to protect him.

A shotgun blast broke through the air and the boys fell apart, gasping, Stanley's head pounding through the heat and the pain.

Pendanski glared at them, his gaze resting on Zero, and Stanley stood, stepping in front of Zero very slightly, eyes blazing.

For a long moment no one spoke.

"Get back to your holes," Pendanski snapped.

Stanley stayed rooted until he felt Zero's hand pull at his arm.

"C'mon, Stanley."

They dug in silence for the next half hour, until the Warden's car appeared in a cloud of dust, and Stanley knew everything was about to come undone.

Zero's eyes were hard and flat as he glared at Pendanski, catching the shovel that was thrown at him.

"Here, take it Zero," he said. "It's all you'll ever be good for."

Zero looked consideringly between Pendanski and the shovel, then swung it hard at Pendanski's face.

The empty crunch it made as it struck echoed through Stanley's chest.

He knew what Zero was going to do.

"I hate digging holes," Zero said.

Then he ran.

* * *

The forty sixth night, the boys of D-Tent all lay awake, terrified that the tent flap would open and one of them would be next. 

But the tent flap remained closed.

Stanley slept in his own bed.

The day after the forty sixth night Stanley dug two holes; one for him and one for Zero.

Zero did not come back, and the forty seventh night the tent flap remained closed and Stanley still slept in his own bed.

* * *

The new kid who slept in Zero's bed was small. 

The fiftieth night Stanley found himself holding his breath, almost expecting the tent flap to open.

But Pendanski wasn't interested in Twitch.

Stanley closed his eyes and tried to ignore the burning in his throat.

He missed Zero.

* * *

The day after the fiftieth night, when Mr Sir pulled up in the water truck, Stanley thought of a plan.

* * *

It was a stupid plan, he realized, half an hour later, as he trudged across the dry lake bed, the crashed water truck far behind him. 

A really, really stupid plan, because now even if he did find Zero how was he supposed to help him? He had no food, no water. No nothing.

He was an idiot.

As he walked he thought about Pendanski, and how he would like to kill him. He thought about the sound Zero's shovel had made when it hit the counselor across the face. He hated Pendanski with every fiber of his being. He hated him for what he'd done to Zero.

Stanley wasn't sure how much longer he could keep walking. He knew he would have to go back, eventually, but every time he thought about turning around something spurred him on, forced him to go that bit further.

He found an empty sunflower seed sack, and clutched it as if it was a lifeline.

He walked on.

When he finally found the boat, each breath burned painfully in his lungs, and each footfall jarred his tired legs.

When Zero crawled out from under the boat, Stanley forgot to breathe altogether.

And then Zero was right there, and Stanley closed his eyes and held him tight.

* * *

Zero was dying. 

He had collapsed near the top of the mountain, and now Stanley was carrying him over one shoulder. The air was thick and heavy, and it smelt rotten.

Stanley didn't think he would be able to make it to the top of God's Thumb. He didn't think he had the strength.

Yet he kept on climbing, and when he finally did collapse it was to fall into a puddle of mud.

Cool, wet mud.

* * *

They survived on muddy water and onions for days, so many days that Stanley lost track of the nights, and when they finally returned to camp he had no idea which night it was. 

He felt Zero's anxiety as they neared the camp grounds, and reached out for his hand, squeezing it tight.

"It's okay," he said, and he remembered saying it too that first night. The first night he helped Zero.

Zero nodded, squeezed Stanley's hand and raised his chin.

They had one more hole to dig.

* * *

They found their treasure, but the Warden was only moments behind. 

Zero was already out of the hole when Pendanski appeared, holding a flashlight.

He froze. He was like a frightened rabbit, wide eyes fixated on Pendanski, and Stanley wished that he'd been the first one to climb out of the hole, or that they were both still in the hole together.

Pendanski's eyes lingered on Zero, and Stanley clenched his fists, feeling white hot rage blaze through him.

And then the lizards came.

They waited, and waited, and finally Pendanski suggested just shooting them.

"Who?" a counselor asked. "The lizards or the kids?"

Pendanski's eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and Stanley had the sickening feeling that he was imagining exactly what he'd like to do with Zero.

He looked at Zero, who was still sitting stiff and rigid, far more afraid of Pendanski than the lizards.

_Look at me,_ Stanley thought, and indeed Zero's head did turn fractionally towards him. His face was pale and his mouth trembled.

Stanley wanted to give him the thumbs up, but didn't dare move his hand.

Zero seemed to understand though, and they shared a tiny half smile.

The sun came up, and Stanley felt the force of its rays on his tired skin.

"Stanley," Zero whispered. "Is your last name your first name backwards?"

Stanley stared at him for a moment, and was nodding slowly when the sound of cars approaching the camp cut through the dusty air.

"You think it's them?" the Warden asked.

"It ain't the Girl Scouts selling cookies," Mr Sir replied.

Stanley ignored them, his gaze fixed on Zero, whose mouth was tight with pain as he pressed his palms against his thighs.

The car doors slammed shut, then a woman Stanley didn't know was addressing him, telling him she'd get them out of there.

Stanley hoped so. He wasn't sure how much longer Zero could hold on.

* * *

Stanley closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the dirt wall. His legs were going to give way any second. 

"This wouldn't have happened if you'd released him to me yesterday," the woman, his lawyer he'd realised, said.

"This wouldn't have happened if he wasn't a thief!" the Warden exclaimed, and he cracked one eye open to look at her, but found himself looking at Pendanski instead.

And he didn't like the way Pendanski was looking at Zero. Not at all.

Ignoring any sense of caution whatsoever, Stanley pulled himself out of the hole by his arms. He heard the lizards scrambling underneath him, trying to find the shade at the bottom of the hole.

He winced, trying to ignore the sudden rush of pins and needles that fled down his legs, and reached for Zero, pulling him up by the hand, supporting him as he stumbled on numb legs.

His arm was around Zero's waist, holding him up, and he glared daggers at Pendanski, whose eyes were still fixed on Zero.

The Warden rushed towards them, trying to take the suitcase they'd found from Zero, but Zero clutched it so tight Stanley suspected he couldn't have let it go even if he'd wanted to.

"It belongs to Stanley," he said. He showed them the faded black letters, printed on the battered leather.

"See? Stanley Yelnats."

Pendanski stared at them.

"But he can't read," he said.

Zero said nothing, but leaned against Stanley very slightly, his eyes defiant as he stared back at Pendanski.

And Stanley was proud.

* * *

"I can't leave Hector," Stanley said. 

He heard his lawyer sigh impatiently, but ignored her, his focus solely on Zero.

Zero was afraid.

"I'll be okay," he said.

He was lying.

Pendanski placed his arm around Zero's shoulders.

"Don't worry," he said, a slow smile stretching across his face. "We'll take good care of Hector."

Zero didn't flinch. He looked carefully from the hand on his shoulder to Stanley.

Zero was very afraid.

"I'm not leaving here without him."

There was a very pregnant pause, then his lawyer sighed.

"Get me the file on Hector Zeroni."

Pendanski went into the office, and Zero immediately stepped closer to Stanley and brushed Stanley's wrist with his hand. Stanley nudged Zero's shoulder gently with his elbow, and tried to smile past the knot of anxiety in his stomach.

The other boys came out, slapping them on the back and giving them hugs, congratulating them on surviving.

Zero stayed close to Stanley.

Finally Pendanski reappeared.

"There seems to be no file on Hector Zeroni."

There was chaos, shouting, exclamations, but Stanley didn't listen.

He was taking Hector home. Everything was going to be okay.

And ten minutes later, soaking wet, they were driving away from Camp Green Lake, Pendanski staring at them through the back window with sour, angry eyes.

Stanley rested his head back against the seat, and Zero slumped close, his hair tickling Stanley's cheek.

He closed his eyes.

They'd won.

* * *

They never talk about what happened at Camp Green Lake. Even now, when they're grown and secure and about to graduate from high school. 

Hector never mentions it, and Stanley wouldn't dare bring it up on his own, so they just pretend it didn't happen.

Stanley doesn't like this. He feels there are some unresolved issues in there somewhere and wants to sort them, because he doesn't think pretending at all never happened is any good for either of them.

And this is why he finds out which prison Pendanski is in, and makes an appointment to visit him.

* * *

The prison is cool in contrast to the early heat of summer outside, and Stanley is relieved as he sits at the visiting table and waits. 

He almost laughs when he recognises Pendanski filing through the prisoner's door.

He's wearing an orange jumpsuit.

Oh, the irony.

He was arrested for paedophilia only a few months ago. Stanley remembers reading about it in the newspaper. His trial is pending.

Stanley hopes dearly they lock him away for a long, long time.

Pendanski stops when he sees Stanley at the table. He recognises Stanley, and his eyes flit from side to side as if looking for an escape route.

He knows why Stanley is here.

Eventually he smiles that big, fake smile Stanley remembers so well and sits at the table.

"Stanley," he says. "This is a big surprise."

Stanley shrugs one shoulder.

"Not really," he says, as if it's been days, not years since they last saw each other. As if this was any old day at Camp Green Lake.

Pendanski seems unsure how to act, and watches Stanley warily.

Stanley takes a moment to study him, eyes travelling across s swollen nose and black eye, fairly recent, the dirty orange jumpsuit, the battered, bandaged hand resting on the table top.

"They don't like you much in here," he says.

Pendanski attempts a smile, but Stanley isn't completely ignorant.

He knows what the other prisoners do to paedophiles.

"You know why I'm here," he says, voice low.

Pendanski hesitates, then nods.

"Zero," he says.

Stanley closes his eyes.

"Hector," he says quietly.

"What?"

"His name is Hector." His eyes snap open. "He is not a zero. He is not a nothing or a nobody. He is worth more than you'll ever be, you perverted piece of shit."

He is trembling, he realises, and forces himself to breath.

"You're lucky I can't touch you." His voice is low and gruff. So unlike him. "Or I might just kill you right now."

Pendanski swallows, and Stanley feels a glimmer of satisfaction.

"I'm glad you're in here," he hisses. "I hope they lock you up for a very long time. And I hope the other prisoners show you just how much they don't like you every single night, and then you might know how it feels."

He is suddenly very tired. He doesn't want to be in this prison that reminds him so much of that nightmare summer. He doesn't want to be looking at the man who has cast a shadow over Hector's life for far too long now.

He stands.

"I think we're done here."

"Stanley wait."

Pendanski puts his hand on Stanley's arm, and Stanley stares coldly at it. Pendanski pulls back and Stanley leans down until their faces are very close.

"If, by some miracle, you actually get out of here and you come anywhere near Hector Zeroni, I will personally make sure you are physically unable to carry out your perversion ever again, do you understand?"

Pendanski nods, eyes wide.

"As I said. We're done here."

Stanley signals to the guard and walks through the door.

He does not look back.

* * *

Hector is sleeping on the couch when he gets home, and he smiles slightly before going to the kitchen to fix himself some coffee; a habit he picked up after Camp Green Lake and has been unable to kick since. 

His parents have gone away for the week with Mrs Zeroni, and Hector and Stanley have been left alone in Stanley's house. Mrs Zeroni joked that Hector spent so much time there anyway it probably wouldn't make a difference.

It's graduation week, and there have been a hundred different parties that they were invited to and a million hangovers to follow, and once, in a dark, quiet corner away from the ever present crowd of too many friends, a drunken kiss that neither of them has mentioned since.

Stanley stares out of the window, the tiny espresso cup clutched in his hand, and wonders if he should tell Hector where he has been.

"Hey."

Hector's voice is sleepy and he rubs his eyes as he stands in the doorway.

Stanley smiles.

"Hey."

"Where were you man?" Hector asks through a yawn. "I got back from basketball and you were gone."

Hector is quick and light on his feet, and the star of the school basketball team. He pretends like it's no big deal, but every time he makes that impossible jump shot, his smile is too big for his face. Every girl on the cheerleading squad wants to date Hector. They think he has allure because he doesn't say much. Stanley knows he just doesn't like answering their questions.

Stanley hesitates, watching him, unsure what to say.

"I went to see Pendanski."

Hector's reaction is immediate. He suddenly doesn't look so sleepy and his fingers are white on the door jam.

They never talk about Pendanski.

"Why?"

His voice is scratchy, and Stanley feels his heart clench a little.

"Because we never talk about it."

He puts his still full espresso cup on the counter and steps around the kitchen island.

"Because as much as you like to pretend it didn't happen, it did."

Stanley knows Hector knows where Pendanski is, because Stanley very pointedly left the article about his arrest on Hector's coffee table.

"And because if he does get out, I wanted to make sure he would never come near you again,"

Hector is standing very still, and Stanley is afraid he will bolt like a frightened animal.

"Hector," he says softly, and closes the gap between them.

Hector is only a few inches shorter than him now, and he stares into Stanley's eyes, pleading silently with him to make it all okay.

Stanley places a shaking hand on Hector's cheek, and Hector closes his eyes as Stanley presses their lips together.

It feels as if it's been a long time coming, this kiss, because the drunken one doesn't really count, and Stanley thinks maybe he has been subconsciously wanting this ever since that night that Hector pressed his lips against Stanley's throat in gratitude.

Their kiss now is soft and undemanding, and all too soon it's over and Hector rests his forehead on Stanley's shoulder as Stanley runs his fingers up and down Hector's spine.

"It's okay," he says.

* * *

If Pendanski was scared when he saw Stanley at the visitor table, he looks positively terrified to see Hector sitting there as well. 

For a full minute Stanley thinks he's going to run, then he squares his shoulders and comes to sit with them.

He has a scar on his face that Stanley didn't notice before, a fine silvery line that cuts diagonally across his nose and left cheek.

Exactly where Hector hit him with that shovel.

Under the table, Hector grips Stanley's hand.

"I sure am getting a lot of visitors this week," Pendanski says weakly.

Stanley only regards him coldly.

"Stanley," Pendanski tries. "It's nice to see you again. And Ze-"

Pendanski breaks off suddenly under Stanley's glare.

He coughs.

"Hector," he amends. "You too."

For a long moment no one speaks, then Hector says, very quietly, "I'm here because I'm not afraid of you anymore."

Stanley brushes his thumb across the back of Hector's hand, encouraging him to continue.

"I know I am going to be able to walk away from this place and never think of you again. But I have no doubt that you will have thought of me every night for the last three years, and will think of me every night for the next three years, and three years after that, and after that."

His grip on Stanley's hand is so tight it's painful, but Stanley's face is impassive.

"I'll forget you and what you did to me, but you will never be able to forget me. And that just kills you."

At Camp Green Lake, Pendanski used to tell everyone Hector was stupid, but Hector is anything but stupid. He read that article, and he knew that the small black boy of fifteen that Pendanski is accused of molesting could have been Zero. Was probably targeted for that very reason.

And from the look on Pendanski's face, Hector is completely correct.

Hector doesn't let Pendanski speak. Stanley knows that Pendanski has never heard Hector talk this much before.

"I'm also here to say that if, by some huge miscarriage of justice, you aren't found guilty, I am willing to stand up and reveal everything you did to me to get you behind bars."

Stanley stares at him, unable to hide his surprise. Did Hector just decide that, on the spot? Or was that the reason he had wanted to come here in the first place?

"There are witnesses, Pendanski," Hector is saying. "Stanley is one of them. The other members of D-Tent. Hell, practically the whole camp knew what you were doing."

He is unable to completely conceal the bitterness in his voice, and Stanley squeezes his hand.

"For a rapist, you weren't very smart."

Stanley sees the way Pendanski flinches at the word, and Hector's lips twist into an unpleasant smile.

"Don't like to hear the truth about yourself?" he asks. "Well then, let me lay it out for you. You raped and molested me every night for over three months. You abused your position of authority over me, and told me I was so unimportant that no one would care even if I did tell them. But you were wrong."

He stares at Pendanski for a moment, then turns to Stanley, his eyes sad and tired.

"Can we go home?"

Stanley is already standing, pulling Hector up with him.

Pendanski's eyes are glued to their joined hands.

Stanley doesn't let go, and Hector holds on a bit tighter.

"This is over," Hector says, and his voice doesn't shake.

Outside the prison, Hector stops suddenly and for a moment Stanley thinks he might collapse.

Stanley holds him close and whispers into his hair.

"It really is over now. It really is okay."

* * *

It's Graduation Day, and Stanley and Hector stand side by side, silly, identical grins on their faces. 

They both think this is stupid, that it's lame and cheesy, but neither can stop smiling as they prepare for their final moments as high schoolers.

They've done the diplomas and neither managed to trip over their graduation gown. They've done the yearbooks, and both their hands ache from too much signing, and their own yearbooks are so full of messages they are barely legible.

They've done the team photographs, and Stanley tried not to laugh as the cheerleaders fought over who got t sit on Hector's knee, and Hector tried not to look too repulsed.

They're not going straight to college, but are travelling together round Europe first, since neither of them has ever been outside the state of Texas.

Europe seemed the farthest away.

Then they're going to NYU together. Hector once told Stanley that he would like to live in a skyscraper. NYU itself may not be a skyscraper, but it's surrounded by them.

"Congratulations, Class of 2005!" the Dean says, and Stanley catches Hector's eyes as they take their hats off and fling them high, high into the air.

And as hats rain down around them, and the official graduation photographer clicks away, Stanley reaches for Hector and pulls him into a deep kiss.

He hears gasps of surprise from around them, and is aware that their parents are watching, and realises wryly that they're probably going to be breaking some cheerleader's hearts, but he doesn't care.

Because the only nights he measures his life by now are the nights they get to spend together.

And everything is okay.

Fin.


End file.
